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Its been so long since I’ve blogged, I don’t even know where to begin. I suppose I’ll start at the beginning.

In early April I went to see a movie with my BFF Mandy. We ate lunch and saw the Hunger Games. Throughout the movie, I had to get up to use the bathroom–three times. I thought this odd since Mandy and I both had the same amount to drink. I finally jokingly said to her, “Either I’m pregnant, or I have a urinary tract infection.”

I thought back in my mind and realized that, while incredibly far-fetched, this WAS possible. I went home and thought on it. I tried to sit and just ‘feel.’ Did I feel anything weird? No sore boobs, no bloated tummy, not tired, no weird cravings. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. And, I wasn’t late. I had a period. Or what I thought was a period?

I went upstairs and found an old test stick in my bathroom from the trying-to-conceive-Bea days.

“Holy shit.” That was my response. Two pink lines. D’oh. I was 5 1/2 weeks pregnant.

Fast forward another week, and the symptoms were in full force. I was pretty sick with Bea. It was wintertime, so that probably made it more pronounced, but I do remember feeling like I had the worst case of the flu ever, and couldn’t wrap my head around what possible evolutionary, biological or other celestial reason why pregnancy had to start out so awfully. Why would God (or your deity of choice) put someone through this? You would think through natural selection our species may have figured out how to iron this little wrinkle out (irony understood: Here I am pregnant again).

Well, this kid really did a number on me. I was/ am way sicker this time around. With Bea, I had nausea but no vomiting, but #2 is still making me throw up, as I sit here at 12 1/2 weeks, taking anti-nausea meds. I’ve lost 8 pounds. I think the worst of it is behind me, as I feel good enough to at least write about it.

I stopped going to work around 6 1/2 weeks. I was useless. Poor Bob did everything. Got Bea up in the morning, fed her, took her to school, picked her up, bathed her, and put her to bed. My mom kindly cooked for us, so we didn’t starve, and by “we” I mean Bob and Bea, because I mostly just grazed. I did nothing but sleep, eat a few potato chips and some yogurt, and sleep.

Then, last week, I was ready to go back to work. Not as much ready to go back to work as I was ready to get out of the house. Lo and behold, on my first day back I was told that they had figured out how to do my job without me there, and would be letting me go. I was almost relieved, but still disappointed because I do like working, and don’t want to take Bea out of daycare. I liked my job and it fit my lifestyle as a working mother. But, as I puked in the locker room before I left, I thought “I guess this is for the best.” (Sidenote, I wasn’t being replaced, so, no I can’t sue them…but to lay off a pregnant person is pretty ballsy, eh?)

Oh, and the best part of all of this is that we had to take my house of the market for 4 weeks because I was too sick to deal with showings. So, now the house is finally back on the market. And it is SLOOOOW. We need a new house more than ever.

I thought about whether or not to write about the early parts of pregnancy, because, for me, they have been nothing short of miserable, especially the second time around. And for those around me, I’m sure its been no picnic either (Bob was out of town for a whole week and Bea and I had to stay with my mother). And all the while I go through this, BFF is battling cancer. How can I complain about anything when my poor friend is on her 3rd month of chemotherapy? Where is my positive spin? Where is my humorous take? Is there nothing funny about pooping your pants at work? Well, I guess in hindsight that will be funny.

No, nothing funny about any of this for me. Don’t judge, I wasn’t super jazzed with Bea, either, until I had my 20 week sonogram. I guess I’m just a seeing is believing kind of gal. I remember getting odd reactions when I displayed anything short of undying, Jessica Simpson-like joy over being pregnant, but maybe everyone feels that way and they are just better actors than I am. I think this makes me a super duper happy pregnant person in the 2nd and 3rd trimesters, as a sharp juxtaposition. I am happy, I will be happy, this is meant to be, as all things in life are. Just have to get over this hump.

So, as you can see, I did end up writing about this. While I’m not in nesting mode just yet, this entry in a blog about parenting, fertility, life and family does give hope. I don’t like complaining about how sick I feel, knowing that there are so many others out there who would give anything to feel the way I feel (well… maybe not QUITE exactly how I feel). But, this part of my journey shouldn’t take anything away from my fertility journey with Bea. If nothing else, it adds to it. Because after two years of trying to get pregnant with Beatrice, and having to ultimately resort to IVF, this pregnancy came as an almost impossible surprise. So, maybe reading about how nauseous I am won’t give hope to many, but the fact that I am pregnant should.

If someone who tried for so long and had so many difficulties can have a ooops lovely surprise, anyone can. And I have friends, who, at this very moment are struggling right now. And I think of them often. No, its not fair that someone who wasn’t trying can get there before you. I’ve been there, I know. But hope is not lost. There are a thousand stories like mine. And I hope those that are still chasing stars can add their names to the list of tales very soon.